Story and photos by Nancy Birnbaum
Keith, the manager of Time Out Boat Yard (TOBY) just couldn’t help himself. “You know what they say, ‘There are those who have run aground, and then there are those who lie!’ ”
Oh yes, we knew. We had indeed run aground while exploring the reef-laden area of northern Guadeloupe in mid-December. Sweet Escape, our 2007 Leopard 40 catamaran, was happily anchored in the cove at Pigeon Island, close to a large grocery store, a patisserie, and even a boucherie, when I informed the skipper (my husband, Jann) that I wanted to visit the north part of the island, right where the two butterfly wings come together. Friends of ours had shared that it was beautiful there among the reefs. The captain always does what the admiral says, so off we sailed. Or motored, I should say — there was little wind — but it only took us five hours to get to Baie Mahault, the anchorage closest to where the wings attach, and the northern approach to Pointe-à-Pitre. We were the sole cruising boat anywhere in the Grand Cul-de-Sac Marin. I guess that the reefs are intimidating for most. Pas moi! I wanted to snorkel close to them, so that meant finding a day mooring near L’îlet Caret, a tiny island, mostly a sand spit, where local day charters like to bring the drinking set.
We enjoyed a very quiet night on the anchor at Baie Mahault. Without a breeze, it was like being on the hard. After a relaxing morning, we motored north and followed the Navionics chart and I was on the bow for visual confirmation to get around the reefs to L’îlet Caret. This may have been the first time that we ventured into the red-speckled portion on the chart with Sweet Escape. As we drew less than four feet, we weren’t worried. The chart showed eight feet up to the mooring balls. We never touched bottom on our way in.
Now secured to a ball, we donned our snorkel gear and jumped in. Unfortunately, as with so many other areas we’ve visited, there was a lot of bleached coral and only a little grass. We spotted a few little fish, but overall, it was disappointing. We swam over to the little island and took a stroll around, which took all of five minutes. On the other side, we were scolded in French and reminded not to walk on the island. “Stay in the water,” said the charter captain. In the very center of the island there is a roped-off section to protect the limited vegetation trying to get a foothold. Other than a few large pieces of driftwood, there wasn’t anything to see.
We swam around some more and then headed back to the boat.
Once dinner was done, I started to hear a scraping sound. Jann said it was the boat moving on the mooring ball, but I wasn’t so sure. I approached the subject of returning to Baie Mahault, but Jann suggested that we just stay put. After dark, the scraping sound became more frequent and louder. I asked Jann to go look at the ball and listen. When he came back I think that he knew we were touching bottom, but it wasn’t for long. I tried to talk to him about the situation, but he dismissed my concerns with a “Just chill, hon.”
Although both of us retired to our cabin, the sound of us scraping the bottom, and later, bumping along, kept us both awake.
We had planned to leave at O-Dark 30, when the tide would be high, according to Jann, but at 4:30, still wide awake, we weren’t bumping as much and I said, “Let’s get the f@%k out of here!” I let the mooring lines loose and Jann maneuvered us carefully out. We ran aground once, but we were able to motor out to deeper water and the channel around the reefs. It was very dark with no moon, just the light of the chart illuminating our way.
I was relieved that the rudders worked. We would just have to wait until we got to Antigua to see what the keels looked like.
The anxiety was with us all the way to Antigua. The wind was still dead and we motored the entire 12 hours. As soon as the anchor was down, Jann was in the water to see what was what. He reported that the port keel was ground down to the fiberglass in a small spot, and down to gelcoat on the rest. The starboard keel was a little better, with all the bottom paint off, and only a little gelcoat lost.
Our plan was for Jann to see some of Antigua and as it was Christmas, we anchored in Jolly Harbour, found a tour guide, and made reservations for Christmas dinner at the only restaurant accessible by dinghy. I enjoyed seeing parts of the island that I had missed on my last visit and showing Jann all the historic spots — Nelson’s Dockyard, English Harbour, Falmouth Harbour, Shirley Heights, the Devil’s Bridge, and Betty’s Hope Sugar Plantation.
We waited until Tuesday after Christmas to leave for St. Kitts, for a layover in our favorite spot, White House Bay, before sailing for St. Martin, our next port of call. Once again, we arrived ahead of a big holiday — New Year’s Eve.
Patience, the Virtue
After checking in at Marigot, we motored into the lagoon and anchored on the French side, near some new cruising friends. They knew a guy called Ton, who knew the best place for us to haul out. It was time for repairs. I was concerned that it might be hard to find a reasonable haulout rate this far north, but we ended up at the right place.
I was not familiar with the haulout options on St. Martin or Sint Maarten, so we made plans to rent a car and drive around to find out. We started with the yard that Ton mentioned, called TOBY. There was no one in the office when we arrived, so we wandered around and found one business that was open a day after the New Year holiday. That’s where we met Gil, the owner of Boat Paint & Composites. He spoke fluent English and told us how he had given up on France, choosing to reside full time here. He told us that both of the boatyard owners, Paula & Keith, were expected back from Europe that evening, and to contact them tomorrow. We enjoyed hanging out with Gil, and meeting his young son, Paul, and talking about US and French politics, bad presidents, and a few other topics.
The next day, we arrived at the yard around 10:30 AM and found the door to the office open, and Paula behind the desk. There is a rope across the threshold and visitors are required to stand outside the office door to conduct business. Paula is very strict about the rules. The prices are displayed on the wall outside the office, and we were pleasantly surprised by how inexpensive they are. Since we had already strolled around the small yard, we saw that there were two cranes and a small floating dock on a canal not far from the Sandy Ground bridge entrance. We also noticed other catamarans on cradles, including some larger than Sweet Escape. This gave us some confidence that this might work. This would be our first haulout since buying her. Neither of us knew how a crane handles catamarans, but we had a chat with the crane operator, and Paula’s partner, Keith Ellison. He said that it would be best to put us on cradles to do the repairs. They don’t do any repairs themselves; this is a DIY yard. Fortunately, our new friend Gil had a guy who could help us. And Gil has all the necessary “stuff”!
Gil’s guy is Pepper of Pepper Professional Marine Services, and although his office door was open, he was not in the yard. While we walked around, we came across two of his workers and they gave us Pepper’s number. Jann called. He said that he was available anytime next week! Woohoo. We were ready to schedule our haulout.
We chatted some more with Paula and she explained the rules and told us that she wouldn’t be able to get us onto their calendar for a week. It is what it is. (Remember that patience is required.) We agreed to the date and costs and emailed her our agreement, as required by the rules. She wrote up an invoice, stapled it to the price sheet, along with a list of additional services (such as showers and laundry) all available at a reasonable cost, and the lengthy rules page, and gave it to us. We figured if we were able to get this repair done for less than $2,000, we would be happy cruisers.
Running Aground Lessons Learned:
- We should have checked the tides when we arrived.
- It is best to trust when moorings are labeled Day Use Only, there might be a good reason!
- We should have moved as soon as I heard us scraping.
- I should have insisted that we move
Haulout: Our Sweet Escape flies!
It may be that I am a bit anxious, but I am awake at 3:30 am. I lie in the cabin for a half hour, then get up and head for the settee in the saloon, so that I don’t wake Jann. I do manage to sleep for another hour and then wake him at 8 am. The boat is pretty much ready to go. I have prepared the items that we’ll need to scrape the bottom while we’re still in the straps. It’s all in the blue bucket, and along with the red cooler with cold drinks and my water bottle, we’re prepared. Jann pulls up our anchor, which was well stuck to the muddy bottom, and I drive the boat into the channel towards the Sandy Ground Bridge. The yard is just beyond the bridge channel, a small canal where we will tie up to a plastic floating dock next to the big crane. We are both nervous, but there are three guys on the dock to help with the lines. I have the lines on the starboard side and yell to the guys to ask which way they want us. “Port,” is the reply.
“Okay!” I quickly retie both lines and toss the stern first. The guy misses the line and then catches it just before it slips into the water. I run forward and toss the bow line into the capable hands of the second guy. Keith is there to supervise and drive the crane. It’s a long way down to the dock for me, but the second guy sees that I am short and fetches a step for me. He takes my bag and bucket while helping me down.
It’s time to record the action. It doesn’t take very long for them to place the straps. Most of the weight is aft, so I’m relieved that they know exactly where to put them. The crane is slowly starting to raise Sweet Escape. The guys take the lines from their secure spot attached to land and move them to the crane as Keith expertly swings the boat around and allows her to hang in the straps and drip dry. This gives all of us time to look at what shape the bottom is.
Good news! We’ve been diligent at bottom cleaning and there’s just a thin layer of fuzz to scrape off. Then we get a good look at the bottom of the keels. The port side is down to fiberglass on most of the keel. The starboard keel is in better shape. Keith takes a look at the bottom and gives us a thumbs up. He checks everything and says that it looks good. He notices that there are two bolts near the bottom of both keels. “This isn’t factory work,” he says. Someone has added these bolts, most likely to fix a problem in her past life as S/V Nauti-Nauti. Both Jann and I are relieved that our prognosis was correct. We will have Pepper check for water seepage and repair the damaged port keel and epoxy both bottoms. Jann will apply the bottom paint.
While I scrape away, Keith’s guys take the straps off. There is a slight problem with one strap. It’s caught, pinched between the bottom and a sandbag on top of the cradle. Keith mounts up once again and lifts the boat an inch so they can free it. They double-check the jack stands and make sure that she is stable. I notice that one support behind the starboard keel is a beer keg. Clever. So far, everything has turned out as expected. We are well supported and it’s time for Pepper’s guy Kevin to start the repair work.
Kevin has found that a fair amount of seawater has seeped into the port keel, so he opens it up to drain. By lunchtime, he tells us that he will use acetone to help dry out the wet area before he lays in fiberglass and underwater epoxy. That will have to “kick” before the bottom paint can go on.
We have ordered a rental car from AJ’s and we are expecting him to bring it here to the yard at 1:30 pm. He arrives at 2 pm. Our time is limited since we have bottom paint to apply. We jump in the car and ride back to Marigot harbor to bring him back. Then we drive over to our favorite restaurant, So Benedict, for lunch. After a quick stop at Chez Fernand for croissants (priorities!), we head back to the yard. Jann is attempting to get Pepper to tell him how much we will owe him for the repair work. He’s not forthcoming, so we will wait until he tells us before going to the ATM for Euros. This is the last island that uses Euros and we don’t want to keep any extra.
Our cost for the haulout is expected to be 600 Euros. Wow, what a deal! It could have been worse.
As we arrive back at the yard, Jann heads over to see Gil at his shop, Boat Paint & Composites, for supplies, and I climb up the ladder to the boat. It’s a strange feeling being onboard while so high off the ground. The last time we were on the hard was onboard our first boat, Saga. That was back in 2001 in the Sea of Cortez. You get so used to the boat moving beneath you, that when it doesn’t, it just feels strange, and a little unnerving.
We spend the night onboard, on the hard. Perhaps the strangest aspect is lying in bed and looking through the hatch and NOT seeing the stars moving!
Pepper has finally called back with a price. Looks like the job will come in at just over €1,200. He tells Jann that he will come to the boat to collect his money. Given his previous lack of response, we wait and wonder if he will show up. He appears to be unconcerned about being paid. But he does indeed show up and climbs the ladder to sit down at our cockpit table and talk with Jann. We tell him that we are very satisfied with the work that Kevin did. He takes his cash and we bid him goodbye. The total repair job comes to €650. Combined with €684.53 for the haul-out, plus two shower tokens and two loads of wash, the grand total is just €1,334.53. Jann also tips Kevin €40.
Splashdown
Keith and his guys repeat the process in reverse and splash us the following morning around 11am. He gives us extra time to let Kevin finish before Jann applies the bottom paint.
I record the splash and enjoy watching this team work in unison. It all takes no more than 30 minutes, and we’re back in the canal. We have until 5pm for the next bridge opening, so we motor out to the lagoon nearest to the bridge and anchor. There are a lot of sunken boats and other junk on the bottom towards the middle due to the last hurricane, so we anchor close to the channel marker. Unfortunately, we swing back into the channel and most of the folks passing by give us those looks: “What are you doing?” Once again, patience is the word of the day.
As mentioned earlier, this was our first time hauling Sweet Escape and although we were both a bit nervous about the crane, we were clearly in good hands with TOBY.
We were the first boat in line to go through the Sandy Ground Bridge so that we could anchor in Marigot. I think that it’s our sixth time, but who’s counting? It is our last. We will sail to Grand Case tomorrow and enjoy some beach time.
Nancy and Jann sold Sweet Escape in Miami in June 2025 after cruising the Caribbean for several years and have moved to Panama.
